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That was what drew him to mathematics. Not because it was rarefied, but because it probed to the subtle, deeper reality. People said that mathematicians were unworldly, and yammered on about how Einstein couldn’t make correct change. Nonsense. Einstein just didn’t give a damn. It was the subtle, the beautiful that concerned him.

Data always overruled theory.

Outside the Sea Lounge were ranks of motorcycles, mostly Harleys. Through the open windows she could see a jammed crowd raising beer glasses to the monotonous thump of the live band. Being Harley guys, they were of course rebels, rugged lone wolves, individual spirits, as was obvious because they were all wearing the same jackets and jeans, bandannas and sunglasses, big brass belt buckles and tattoos, probably even the same underwear.

“Law of the universe,” she said. “The longer the menu description, the worse the food.”

Archeology is mostly a process of making associations between objects, and every discovery opens up possible resonances with things we already have. Sometimes, simply wandering through a museum or a site can open your eyes.

The ship of theory could set sail on tides of mathematical grandeur and hope alone, but only data could fill its sails.

To believe anything so far-fetched, I’d have to see a solid calculation.

The desire to find something could provoke what she called “wantum mechanics,” fishing a result out of nothing but noise.

Engineers never liked the unexplained, whereas physicists lived for it.

Information wants to be free—remember that old saw? Some truth to it, only it’s backwards. This isn’t an information economy—we’re drowning in that—it’s an attention economy. That’s what everybody’s vying for.

When in enough doubt, let your subconscious work on the problem.

The problem with the unknown was its lack of road signs.